


breathe (2 a.m.)

by starlight_sugar



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-10 13:58:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_sugar/pseuds/starlight_sugar
Summary: Simmons needs a roommate who doesn't throw Oreos at him while he's trying to study. Is that too much to ask?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rooster Teeth does not have my permission to use any portion of my work in their content.
> 
> This is a gift for the RT Secret Santa 2016 exchange on Tumblr, for KC @katanacupcake! Their prompts included Grimmons, Robonut, and going out for snacks at 2 A.M., and I took those and ran with it. Merry Secret Santa, KC - hope you enjoy! (p.s. - the title for this fic comes from [an Anna Nalick song!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdRHSuPxgXo))

“Simmons.”

Simmons doesn’t look up. Looking up means acknowledging what’s going on, and acknowledging what’s going on means that he’s going to have to react to whatever bullshit Grif is doing, and he doesn’t want to do that on the best of days. But this isn’t the best of days. It’s finals week. He has less patience for whatever this shit is than he normally does.

“Siiiiiiiiiimmons.”

He looks a little closer at his sociology textbook. No Grif. Only Wells-Barnett and Cooper and this awful, awful humanities credit that he needs to graduate. And no awful roommates in sight.

“Hey, Simms. Simmy. Sim- oh, hold on.” Grif goes quiet for two seconds, which Simmons would appreciate a lot more if it weren’t followed by something hitting him squarely in the back of the head.

“What was that,” Simmons sighs, still not looking up from his desk.

“It was an Oreo. You should feel honored that I wasted one of those on your ass.”

Simmons snorts. “Yeah, sure, whatever you say.”

“This is a serious problem, though,” Grif whines. “What kind of roommate are you, ignoring me in my time of need?”

“I’m a roommate trying not to fail my sociology final,” Simmons snaps.

“Ehhhh, you’ll do fine. I don’t think you’re physically capable of getting less than an A.”

Simmons flips Grif off, still without looking up. “You can do shit on your own.”

“But  _ Simmons, _ ” Grif says, somehow even whinier than before, “this is a serious problem.”

“If you say you’re out of Oreos, I’m going to fucking throttle you,” Simmons mutters.

Grif goes silent. Blatantly, suspiciously silent.

Simmons, despite his better judgment, turns around. “You’re not serious.”

“I don’t want to go out alone,” Grif says. It’s almost a pathetic sight: he has two empty Oreo packages next to him on the couch, a textbook on the table in front of him, and a notebook resting on his lap. Simmons would be impressed by him having his study materials out at all, except he can see at least four dicks drawn in the notebook and another in the textbook. “I need Oreos, it’s my study fuel.”

“Grif, it’s-” Simmons checks his phone. “It’s 1:54 in the morning, where are we going to get Oreos?”

“The corner store’s open 24 hours, and they have Oreos.” Grif leans forward. “Simmons, I’ll buy you Oreos. That’s how serious I am right now.”

“I don’t want Oreos, I want to study,” Simmons snaps. “Come on, you know I have this final-”

“And you’re going to do  _ fine, _ ” Grif says. “Come on, when was the last time I asked you to do something for me?”

“Literally three hours ago.”

“Uh, no it wasn’t.”

“You asked me to find your textbook.” Simmons gestures at it. “I found it for you. That was your favor for the day.”

“Simmons!”

“You got what you’re getting, asshole,” Simmons snaps. “Why don’t you go yourself, or ask Donut?”

“Uh, because it’s Tuesday?” Grif looks at Simmons incredulously. “I can’t ask Donut to come with me on a Tuesday.”

“Technically Wednesday.”

“Whatever.”

“What does Donut do on Tuesdays?”

“Do you seriously not know?” Grif shakes his head. “It’s his date night with Lopez. I’m not going anywhere near that.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Simmons concedes. Donut gets intense about his date nights. Simmons isn’t about to interrupt that either. “But I’m still not going with you.”

“There’s no good reason,” Grif says. “None. You’re being a real dick.”

Simmons rolls his eyes. “If you can’t get your own Oreos, that’s a you problem.”

“Whatever,” Grif huffs. “I was going to help you study with your nerdy-ass flash cards if you came with me, but I guess not.”

“I study better on my own,” Simmons says. “You know that.”

Grif waves him off. “I guess I’ll just be here. Without any Oreos.”

“Grif.”

“Alone,” Grif sighs.”

“I’m right here, you’re not alone-”

“Without anyone who gives enough of a fuck to walk to the corner store, literally  _ three minutes _ away-”

“Jesus! Okay!” Simmons throws his hands in the air. “I’ll go with you to get the fucking Oreos if you’ll let me study  _ in peace. _ ”

“Awesome,” Grif says. “Thanks, Simmons, you’re a real friend.”

“You’re a real pain in the ass,” Simmons mutters as he gets to his feet. The world blurs around him for a second - probably a side-effect of not moving for the last couple of hours - but it rights itself before long. He turns to Grif. “Are we going?”

“I don’t want to get up,” Grif says plaintively.

Simmons pinches the bridge of his nose. “Grif, I swear to God-”

“But I’m going to,” Grif finishes quickly, and launches himself to his feet. “Come on, I really want more Oreos.”

“Fine,” Simmons sighs, and shuffles off to find a pair of shoes. “Why do you want me to come with you so badly anyways? Can’t you go alone?”

“You already agreed,” Grif says, quickly. Suspiciously quickly. “Come on, Simmons, let’s go.”

Simmons huffs out a breath and grabs a jacket. “Let’s go,” he mutters. He’s ready to walk out the door when, suddenly, Grif grabs his elbow. Simmons stares. “Uh. Grif?”

“We’re walking,” Grif says, like it’s totally normal for him to be touching Simmons voluntarily, and opens the door. “Come on.”

“Okay,” Simmons says slowly, and lets Grif lead him out of their room, stumbling down the hall behind him. “What are you-”

“You haven’t moved in, like, five hours,” Grif says, and Simmons blinks. “Except to point at where I keep my textbook, and you didn’t even get up for that. So we’re getting you Oreos.”

“Five hours isn’t that long, I’ve seen you go longer without moving-”

“Simmons,” Grif snaps, and Simmons trails off without really meaning to. “You already agreed, there’s no point in questioning my methods now.”

Simmons thinks about it. Grif doesn’t bother him during studying, not when it matters most, but Grif is definitely right. Simmons gets too invested in his studies sometimes, and he knows that, but he didn’t realize that  _ Grif _ knew it too. He never realized that Grif actually paid attention to what he was doing.

“There’s no way you only had two packages of Oreos,” Simmons decides, rather than face the monumental realization that Grif actually gives a fuck about him. “Your stash has way more than two packages.”

“But I’m running low,” Grif whines as he pushes the door open and leads Simmons outside. “I’m down to just three packages, Simmons, that’s not enough Oreos.”

“Can’t you get more at a reasonable time?”

Grif tightens his grip on Simmons’s arm, almost like he’s afraid Simmons is going to try and turn back when the corner store is literally in sight. “I’m being proactive, Simmons. Aren’t you always saying I should be more proactive?”

“Not when it comes to Oreos,” Simmons says, and he’s surprised by how hard it is to keep the fondness out of his voice. Maybe Grif has a shitty way of showing that he cares, but Simmons is pretty sure that he cares.

“I’m being proactive when it comes to the most important things in my life,” Grif announces. “The Oreos, and giving you shit.”

“You’re the fucking worst,” Simmons says heavily, and Grif’s fingers dig into his elbow a little more firmly, and he sighs and wonders what he did, good or bad, to deserve his fucking roommate. “Let’s buy some Oreos.”

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to say hi on tumblr @pervincetosscobble or on twitter @jazfiute!


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